like a dithered cloud
aching to weep
its colored rains
through sunbeams, these dews
percolate fronds in the morning fog
the hunger grows
ponds would flow
nature would open its pores
for the withering worms and slick toads
to frolic and flounder once more
as a peak of light pierces
through the greenery,
these leaves souse under rain
and lilt in the wind
a paroxysmal awakening
full of sound and fury
